Coming of Darkness
by DreamingIce
Summary: "No matter what happens to you, you will still be my son, and I will always love you." Selena bonds with her newborn son, Murtagh, and ponders fate. SelenaMorzan hints. Companion to my other one-shot 'Coming of Light'


**Coming of Darkness **

**AN: Because there is _nothing_ on Selena. And I can't resist an underwritten character... also the chance to write a baby!Murtagh was just too appealing to pass up. I admit I've taken liberties with the Selena/Morzan, but my thoughts on that are that Morzan had somewhat of a 'façade' for Selena, and she was totally under his power. I don't think the rose-coloured lenses came off until later. And I figured that hey, Morzan probably left his parents, possibly siblings, behind when he joined the Riders...**

**Disclaimer: Chris Paolini owns most of this. All I own is the origins of Murtagh's name. **

The pain had really kicked in as the sun had begun it's last leg across the sky. And what pain it was. She'd felt it building all day, but that hadn't prepared her for it's intensity.

She was gasping for air as one of the servants kept telling her to breathe. As if she wasn't trying. She just wanted this child _out_ of her; she wanted the pain to stop.

An hour later, Selena tried to shake her sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes as the maids washed her up. Right now, she didn't care how filthy she was. The only thing she wanted was to hold her son. Finally—with much fussing—the women made sure their Lady was comfortable before bringing in the babe.

In Selena's mind, she had never seen anything so perfect. Eagerly holding out her arms, she gathered her son against her chest, quietly asking the maids to leave her alone for awhile—acknowledged with understanding nods.

_Her son._

It was hard to believe that she was a mother. She peered at the tiny bundle she held in her arms. Already, he had a dark thatch of downy hair on his little head—similar to her own in colour—and his hands... Selena marvelled at the tiny hands, how they could be so small and so perfect?

"What should I call you, my darling?" she murmured to the sleeping infant nestled against her breast. She hadn't really thought about names. She sighed softly, watching the sun sink below the distant horizon. It was tempting to name him after her father, but he would have hated that—stubborn man that he was.

"Murtagh," she whispered.

A small movement against her chest drew her gaze back down. Her son was happily sucking on his hand. "Do you like that, Murtagh?" she whispered softly. Her only response was a soft, contented sigh.

"Murtagh it is then. My Murtagh," she whispered. She didn't know why she had thought of that name, but somehow it seemed to be _right_. She'd only ever heard the name once before; the one occasion when Morzan had talked about his birth family. His parents and younger brother—Murtagh—who had died of a plague that had swept across Alagaësia during his third year with the Riders. The look in his eyes when he had talked of them was one that most people would never associate with him: grief, regret and love.

Oh yes, love. Something that most would believe Morzan incapable of, but she knew otherwise. Fine, he didn't love her in the same way that her father had loved her mother, or Garrow loved Marian, but he cared for her on a level that he cared for no one else.

She knew people feared Morzan, and there were times—when he was in one of his towering rages—when she agreed with them. But her fears were centred on another being; the one who held Morzan, and most of Alagaësia in his twisted power. Galbatorix was the one who had the power to make Morzan—and the rest of the remaining Forsworn—do anything he desired.

Selena knew that if Galbatorix ordered Morzan to kill Murtagh and herself, he would have to. She cursed Galbatorix and his oaths, the knowledge of his Rider's true names too, as the twilight sunk into the darkness of true night. One of the maids quietly entered the room to light the candles and inform Selena that dinner would be brought to her in another half-an-hour.

She nodded distractedly, now stroking Murtagh's downy hair. He shifted slightly in his sleep, one hand still suck firmly in his mouth. Selena couldn't help but giggle as she gently shifted that hand away from his mouth.

"How will you breathe easily with that stuck in there?" she asked him, the tiny, moist digits curling around her little finger. Selena sighed again.

"What will happen to you, Murtagh?" she asked softly. "What will you do with those hands of yours?"

He simply shifted his hand back to his mouth.

Selena smiled, but it was a shadowed one. She knew life would not be easy for a son of Morzan. Especially a bastard son. She had never really understood til now the protective instinct that mothers seemed possess, She would do anything to keep this innocent life she held safe.

But she wouldn't be able to forever. She wouldn't be able to have a whole week with her son. She was expected back at the capital with Morzan as soon as possible. She just hoped that Galbatorix never made him his pawn, like he had with his father.

Selena closed her eyes, whispering to her son: "No matter what happens to you, you will still be my son, and I will still love you."

Outside the window, the half moon struggled to shed any light on to the landscape as the storm clouds circled it relentlessly.

**AN: What do you think? Someone give me some feedback here, I've never written mothers with infants before. The darker tinge was there for my own enjoyment, and for the sake of foreshadowing.  
I'm working on a vignette connected to this one, also with Selena, but after Eragon's birth. That should be a little bit lighter though... or maybe not, come to think of it...**


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